


antipathy

by flowerpetal275



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Badass Kozume Kenma, Jealous Kuroo Tetsurou, Kozume Kenma is Bad at Feelings, Kozume Kenma is So Done, KuroKen - Freeform, M/M, Mafia AU, POV First Person, POV Third Person, Protective Kuroo Tetsurou, fr kenma is a badass in this one, mafia, noooo smut or lemon here folx, okay i know i already said this but come ON kenma is SUCH a BADASS
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-26
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-16 02:22:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29693574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flowerpetal275/pseuds/flowerpetal275
Summary: "Aren't you afraid?" My father hums amusedly, pacing lightly in front of us.I look to Kuroo tied up beside me, smirking amusedly, "Are we supposed to be?"ORKozume Kenma, outcasted (and supposedly dead) son of head mafia leader, Kozume Hideaki, suddenly finds himself in the arms of one powerful Kuroo Tetsurou, leader of the Nekoma syndicate.Oops.
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou, Hinata Shouyou & Kageyama Tobio, Hinata Shouyou/Kageyama Tobio, Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru, Kozume Kenma & Kuroo Tetsurou, Kozume Kenma/Kuroo Tetsurou
Comments: 8
Kudos: 26





	1. "i'm alone."

**Author's Note:**

> main mafia syndicates: 
> 
> Nekoma:  
> -Kuroo Tetsurou (leader)  
> -Bokuto Koutarou  
> -Daichi Sawamura  
> -Sugawara Koushi  
> +others (extras)
> 
> Karasuno:  
> -Kageyama Tobio  
> -Hinata Shoyou  
> -Tsukishima Kei  
> -Yamaguchi Tadashi  
> \+ others (extras)
> 
> +others

Yeah, it was cold. 

It was cold and Kenma, as with most things, hated it. Though Kenma did much prefer the cold to the heat; The cold was crisp, clean. The heat blended everything together into one big, messy sweat-blob. Definitely not Kenma's style. 

Rain drizzles delicately from the clouded sky, allowing a mesmerizing sheen to coat the asphalt beneath the occasional street lamp. The moon didn't dare make an appearance tonight, not with the event taking place just down the road. The smell of the rain calms Kenma's oddly jumpy nerves. Kenma wasn't typically skittish, he was usually able to keep a level head and stay observant of the situation. But---tonight was different. 

The shoulders of Kenma's tux were a bit wet, which sent chills down the skinny boy's small body. He had a small form, one that was agile, and usually able to fit through narrow places. He reminded himself, and many, _many_ others, of a cat in this way. Not to mention Kenma's prominently feline-like features. 

He, in no way, was a cat—-he just resembled one so fiercely that it’s not like you couldn’t recognize it. 

This exact reason was what made it so easy for the boy to slip through the slender window propped open in the back of the building. Obviously, someone had made a simple, yet vital, mistake by leaving the opening available. 

Kenma was sure it'd get whoever did it killed, but that wasn't Kenma's problem, so it wasn't his concern. 

After adjusting his sleeves and checking up on the 9 mm pistol he has strapped to his ankle, he wanders out of the bathroom he'd landed in and out into a hallway. 

Yeah, Kenma didn't really know where he was going, but he wasn't too worried about that. Kenma was never really worried about anything, to be honest. 

Kozume Kenma suddenly finds himself walking into a room stuffed full with people. Mostly men, but a few women wander around, wearing elegantly designed dresses. 

From a street-view, this was nothing but a run-down warehouse. But on the inside, down a level, this was an intricate ballroom, built to harbor banquets for Tokyo's most elite mafia groups. He knew because Kenma was just a boy when this was built, running around these hallways, while his father talked plans on the design of the building. Kozume Kenma knew practically every in and every out of this warehouse. 

Kenma lines the outer edges of the ballroom, fulfilling his known role as the wallflower he is. He watches everyone from a distance, gathering new intel. 

To anyone else, they'd feel terrified being stuck in a room full of A-list mafia families. But Kozume Kenma was not just _anyone_. 

Kenma was the son of who would be called the "king" of the Japanese mafia within Tokyo. 

The name? _Satsujin._

Kenma, however, hasn't been a part of his own syndicate since he was sixteen. He's eighteen now. 

And as far as anyone in the Japanese mafia was aware, Kozume Kenma had been dead for two years. 

So, keeping a low profile was essential for Kenma in this crucial moment to gather intel. 

Kenma often slithered into these events, just to keep tabs on new mafia groups that happened to pop up. It was important to keep himself educated about this particular thing, so he knew which areas to avoid. 

Plus, no one could ever recognize Kenma now unless they paid especially close attention. The teen had died his hair blonde after being proclaimed "dead" two years ago, and while it may have grown out a bit, it still provided cover. That paired with a spurt of puberty caused Kenma's features to age well within the past couple of years. 

Some would call him hot, others would say handsome. I'd say both. (Oops.)

A waiter comes wandering by, offering Kenma a glass of champagne. He turns it down, never having been one to drink. Alcohol had the tendency to make people sloppy. 

And Kozume Kenma was anything but sloppy. 

Lazy? Sure. But sloppy? No. 

"Hey." Kenma looks up, mildly startled. Kenma was always observant, but he never expected someone to actually talk to him at one of these events. When _was_ the last time he had a conversation with someone? 

Kenma hadn't had many friends being the son of Kozume Hideaki, big-scary-mafia-boss-guy. And he sure as hell didn't make any friends after being proclaimed "dead" by his own father. 

Dead people didn't have friends. 

Oh, right---people usually answer when greeted. "Oh, hello." Kenma replies, quietly, looking up at the person. 

He immediately recognized the man as Kuroo Tetsurou, leader of the Nekoma syndicate. He knew of the Nekoma group, they were quite powerful. Kenma would even say they were pretty dangerous. 

"I've always hated these things." Kuroo laughs lowly, his eyes grazing the audience for anything interesting to look at. He found nothing, so he turned his attention back to the one thing that had actually managed to maintain his interest: Kenma. 

Kenma had never been one for small talk, but then again, he was supposed to be dead. So, I guess it only made sense to try to act at least a little unlike himself. "Then why do you come?" He questions, looking up to meet eyes with Kuroo. 

Kuroo's breath hitches in his throat. Kenma's piercingly golden eyes were mesmerizing, beautiful beyond anything Kuroo had ever had the privilege of seeing. His blonde hair really emphasized the color, and the black roots at the top of his head accented them perfectly. The boy's features reminded Kuroo of, as you'd guess, a small kitten. And boy, oh boy, was Kuroo falling for him. 

Kuroo shrugs, "Not like any of us have a choice, do we?" He smirks. Kenma, without reaction, just looks out over the crowd. Kuroo skips over Kenma's apathetic response, determined to hook Kenma in, "So who are you here with?" 

Kenma knew what Kuroo was asking: Which mafia syndicate was he a part of? Karasuno? Tatakai? Fukurodani? Aoba Johsai? 

He only shrugs in response, adding a quiet, "I'm alone." Kuroo also knew what this meant: Kenma was, as far as he knew, a private assassin. A hit man, if you will. 

Private assassins were often hired by various different groups to take a head. There were no dedications to specific syndicates, no ties. Transactions consisted solely of killing and money. No blurred lines. 

What Kuroo didn't know was that Kenma _wasn't_ a private assassin. 

Don’t get him wrong, Kenma had no problem with killing. He just hated how messy it got. So much work to pick up after. 

Kuroo nods, somehow even more pleased by his response; Kenma being a private assassin meant Kuroo didn't have to deal with the politics of having him as a significant other. 

Kuroo would have him either way, but the red-tape of syndicate politics would've made it more stressful than it would've had to be. "What, not gonna ask me?" Kuroo adds after a silent moment. 

Kenma shrugs again, "Why would I ask for information I already have?" 

A smirk crosses Kuroo's face. Boy, was this guy sassy. "You know who I am?" 

"We both know there's no one in this room who doesn't." Kuroo had to admit, the boy was rather quiet. However, contrary to his calm attitude, he didn't seem meek at all. In fact, while he held a reclusive and almost unnoticed presence (perfect for a private assassin), when you paid attention, you could notice a very confident aura surrounding him. He existed with a sense of power buried underneath. 

And Kuroo was falling for this part of Kenma. 

"Well, regardless of whether you know my name or not, I'm Kuroo." He reaches a hand out for Kenma to shake. Reluctantly, the smaller boy takes it. Kenma didn't care for touching people, really. They were often sweaty, and gross. "And you _areeee_?" Kuroo drags on. 

Kenma squints at Kuroo, "I'd rather not." Kuroo nods, disappointed, but understanding; Private assassins typically refused to share their names, or provided code names for jobs. It made it easier for them to go under the radar if something went wrong. "But you can call me Neko." 

Kuroo recognized that nickname; It meant cat, playfully close in title to Kuroo's mafia syndicate: Nekoma. 

"Alright, Neko." Kuroo smiles at him, "So what do you do for fun?"

Okay, so maybe Kuroo was out of shape with this whole "dating" thing. He never found anyone interesting enough to really look into. Well, not until he saw Kenma. 

Kenma playfully raises an eyebrow at the Nekoma leader, "Seriously?" He gives a small laugh, but the miniature bout of noise feels like music to Kuroo's ears. At that moment, Kuroo makes it his specific goal to hear that laugh again. 

"I'm trying my best, okay?" Kuroo laughs, raising his eyebrows at the boy. "I don't do this a lot." 

"Do what?" Kenma asks quietly, looking rather small from Kuroo's tall perspective. Sure, he seemed fit, but his thin figure made him look rather vulnerable to Kuroo. 

"Flirt with people." 

Kenma almost tenses, but manages to keep his carefree attitude, "I'd gladly help you practice." He almost slaps his hand over his own mouth. It was a visceral response, one Kenma hadn't even processed before he said it. He _cannot_ be flirting with Kuroo Tetsurou right now. He can't afford to, not when he's supposed to be dead. 

A spark of excitement lights in Kuroo's eyes, but Kenma doesn't quite catch it---he's still focusing his attention around the room to maintain his own safety. If his true identity is compromised, he'll actually be dead this time. "Here," Kuroo starts, gently grabbing Kenma's elbow. 

Kenma flinches, surprising Kuroo. He gives him a bit of a concerned glance, but Kenma chooses to ignore it. 

The Nekoma leader nods his head to the other side of the room, where the rest of his syndicate is gathered. "Come meet them." Kuroo offers. 

Kenma really shouldn't get involved with these groups again, and he really shouldn't try to push through that group of people. He always got lost in crowds, it's just what happened. Crowds always made Kenma panic. 

Kuroo grabs Kenma's hand, guiding him through the mess of people. Thank god for that. 

"Bokuto." Kuroo greets formally, obviously trying to keep his facade up around the rest of the mafia. Before, they’d been rather secluded in a corner of the room, away from the prying, judgemental eyes of politics. 

"Ey, boss." Bokuto nods his head at Kuroo. 

"Boss." A few other people wander into the circle. 

Kenma's immediately on edge. Way too many people for his preference. 

"Guys, this is Neko." Kuroo gestures to the boy standing beside him. "He's here by himself, so I figured I'd introduce you guys." It was good for a private assassin to have many connections. That way, it was fairly easy to find work, so long as you were good at your job. 

"Nice to meet you, Neko!" Bokuto smiles widely at Kenma, reaching his hand out for a handshake. Again, Kenma reluctantly takes it. 

Yeah, Kenma was gonna need a good, long shower after all this touching. 

Each of the group introduces themselves. Kenma recognizes a few of the more well-known syndicate members, like Daichi and Bokuto, but others aren't as recognizable. 

"Nice to meet you." He murmurs quietly. Kuroo smiles down at Kenma, wondering how he managed to look even cuter. 

Suddenly, Kenma's eyes land on one specific man making his appearance on the other side of the room. "I have to go." He looks back up at Kuroo for the slightest of seconds before darting away with only the agility a feline might be able to harness. His nickname fit well. 

"Wait, Neko!" Kuroo calls, leaping after him. "Will I see you again?" 

Kenma turns around, giving Kuroo an unreadable look, "No." 

Kuroo never thought one simple word could bring him such grief. 

Kuroo turns to his syndicate, "If any of you ever come across Neko again, he'll be under our protection, you got that?" 

A shot suddenly rings through the air. Everyone ducks down, and the majority pulls out their own weapons for defense. The only one who didn't duck had been Kenma, who now stands like a deer caught in the headlights at the entrance of the banquet hall. 

A few people gasp, heads turning in Kenma's direction. "Is that...?" Someone whispers. 

Curiosity strikes in Kuroo. Who was Neko, actually? 

One more shot rings out, aimed right beside Kenma's head. The fear in his eyes is undeniable, and an unfamiliar protective nature overcomes Kuroo. 

That's when the...unexpected...happens. 

Out steps Kozume Hideaki, known well as the king of the Japanese mafia. We all tense, the aura of his authority weighing heavily on all our shoulders. "Kenma?" His voice rings out, rough and aggressive. 

_Kenma?_ Kuroo thinks, _Kozume Kenma?_

Kenma's eyes widened even more, if that was somehow possible. Kuroo's eyes meet Kenma's gorgeous gold ones, and one could sense the regret flowing through the smaller boy. Unfortunately, it only took that small distraction for all hell to break loose. 

Three more shots pierce the air, and Kenma darts out of the room. "Daichi, Bokuto—get the car. Nekomatas, protect Neko." Kuroo orders his syndicate. They all nod, moving into their dedicated positions. 

Kenma shoots down the hall, eyes trained for the bathroom he'd managed to slither in through before. His feet skid as he drifts to a stop in front of the restrooms. The door slams shut just as he climbs over the top of the last stall, wiggling through the window. 

Once out, he leaps to the ground and books it down the alleyway. He hears a door slam open behind him, then shouting and a few more bullets speed past his ears. The sound is ear-splitting, earning a wince from the boy as his ears ring loudly. 

Kenma rounds the corner, freezing in his place when he finds himself standing directly in front of a car, the headlights bright in his eyes. 

"Neko, get in!" Kenma squints past the obnoxious lights, finding Kuroo sticking his head out the window. Someone yanks him back inside, probably not wanting him to get himself shot. 

Something pierces Kenma's left shoulder from behind, forcing him to lurch forward onto his knees. White-hot pain explodes all over his body, and he suddenly finds himself being dragged into the back of the vehicle in front of him. 

"Neko, hey!" Kenma's eyes shoot open at his nickname being called. 

"K-Kenma-" The boy stutters out, "Just Kenma..." 

Kuroo smirks, "Alright, _Kenma_ , we're gonna get you some help." 

"N-No," Kenma sits up, sluggishly trying to open the door. Daichi was driving, while Bokuto had his head sticking out the sunroof, shooting at the cars chasing them. Daichi shifts into reverse and speeds backward out of the alleyway, making a sharp turn and shifting into first gear. 

They're gone in an instant.


	2. "you're safe with us."

The ride to wherever they're going feels like a blur. All Kenma can recall of the journey is the sound of tires skidding across asphalt and Kuroo's bloody hands. 

Kuroo, however, was quite the mess. Kenma's body was so slender, the bullet had managed to pierce all the way through his shoulder, coming out the other end. This, unfortunately, resulted in a _lot_ of blood. 

"Just keep your eyes on me, Kenma." Kuroo gently pats the smaller boy's cheek, grimacing when he realizes he'd just wiped even more blood on his face. Oops. 

Kuroo knew the mess he was getting himself into by taking Kenma back to his estate. However, his infatuation and curiosity over his new acquaintance overrode all other concerns. Why wasn't Kozume Kenma dead? Where has he been? Why would his father try to kill him in the first place? 

When Kozume Hideaki's son vanished around two or so years ago, rumors spread. Kozume Kenma was always known as a rather skinny, unhealthy-looking boy, so some say he got sick and dropped dead. Others say he ran away, to America. There were even rumors that Hideaki killed his own son, but no one knew why. All in all, no one ever truly knew what had happened to the lost prince of the Japanese mafia. 

And Kuroo Tetsurou was determined to be the first to find out. 

Daichi speeds through the hidden entrance at the back of the Nekoma estate, skidding to a stop in the large underground storage facility. At least twenty different cars sit parked in the lot, varying from brand new Lamborghinis, to Teslas, to large Ford F-150s. Anything they could need. And anything Daichi could get Kuroo to buy, for that matter. 

Daichi Sawamura was the Nekoma syndicate's official driver. Not a designated driver, of any sorts, but rather Kuroo's professional speedster. And boy, was Daichi good at his job. 

Kuroo had first met Daichi a few years back, on a mission. The Nekoma leader had never been able to find a driver to match his speed, be there when he needs him--basically read his mind. His driver had died on that mission, and Kuroo and Bokuto found themselves quite stranded and surrounded in a rather unfortunate area: an offcut part of Tokyo, a ways away from their territory. 

Daichi, noticing their predicament, had drifted up beside them and offered them a ride. His car was rather run-down, but it managed to get the job done. Kuroo had never met anyone who could drive as well, or as fast, as Daichi Sawamura. Daichi brought them back to his small apartment in a lesser-known region of the city, where they met Sugawara Koushi, Daichi's boyfriend. 

Sugawara had been studying to become a registered nurse at the time, so he had managed to patch the two Nekoma members up. In the end, Kuroo invited them to stay at his estate and join his syndicate. They accepted, and have remained a part of his group ever since. 

Kuroo practically kicks the door of the Subaru Forester off its hinges, carrying Kenma into the elevator that led up to the estate itself. Bokuto follows close behind, while Daichi speeds off to park the vehicle. 

The elevator ride up felt like an eternity to Kuroo, the lifeless form of his new friend hanging loosely in his arms. As soon as the door opens, Bokuto parts the way through other Nekoma members making their own way through the hall. 

"Suga?" Kuroo calls out, walking through the infirmary door Bokuto had been holding open for them. Cots line the walls, mostly empty, but a few house injured Nekomatas. They'd probably gotten nicked when escaping the banquet just now. 

Sugawara's head pops out from behind a curtained room, an eyebrow raised. "Yeah, boss?" His eyes land on the bleeding boy. "Oh-" He walks towards Kuroo, tearing off his previous set of gloves and pulling a new pair on. "Over here." 

Kuroo sets Kenma on an empty cot, breathing heavily, "He was shot." 

"Yeah, it looks bad." Suga grimaces, grabbing a few squares of gauze to try to staunch the bleeding. "Who is he? He's not Nekoma...?" 

Kuroo sighs, "Kozume Kenma." 

Suga raises an eyebrow at both Kuroo and Bokuto, "Who?" Suga hadn't been a part of the Japanese mafia when Kozume Kenma had "died", so he had practically no idea what that name even meant. 

"Hideaki's son." Bokuto explains, arms crossed. 

"Hideaki has a son?!" Suga exclaims, reaching for disinfectant so he can start stitching up the wounds. 

"Always has, everyone just thought he was dead." Bokuto sighs while passing Suga the material he'll need. Bokuto was in the infirmary often enough, so he typically knew what Suga was gonna need for certain procedures. 

Kuroo looks to Bokuto, "Because he was. There's no way the most popular teenager in the Japanese mafia just vanished off the face of the earth. He had to have been dead." 

"Well, he obviously isn't now." Suga huffs, now stitching the backside of the Kenma's shoulder; the entry wound. 

"Can I ask why you took him _here_?" Suga squints at the Nekoma leader. "Isn't that putting our reputation in jeopardy?" 

"Eh, no one knew it was us who took him, I made sure of that. Plus, he caught my eye and I could tell he had nowhere else to go." Kuroo shrugs, staring intently at the sleeping boy, "He needed help." 

Now, no one in the Nekoma syndicate, or outside of it, would call Kuroo 'merciless' or 'soft'. Kuroo was a strong leader. A mob boss. But when it came to the vulnerable, Kuroo had an undeniable need to protect them. Yes, he was ruthless when it came to defending his syndicate. But he wasn't an animal. 

Not to mention, Kuroo had taken a liking to Kenma. 

Speaking of which, Kuroo looked surprised to see the unconscious boy already stirring. "Kenma?" Kuroo lays a gentle hand on his shoulder. 

Kenma panics immediately. He leaps out of the bed, startling Suga. In a matter of seconds, the boy is halfway across the room, already heading for the exit. His eyes scan the walls, looking for any windows he might be able to slip through. Windows were always his best bet. 

"Kenma, wait!" Kuroo speeds after him. "We're not gonna hurt you!"

Kenma wasn't having any of it. Who were these people? Where was he? But most importantly--where was the closest exit? 

A sharp pain radiates from his shoulder, but he tries his best to ignore it. It slows him down, much to his annoyance. 

A dizzying nausea suddenly overcomes him, sending him tripping over his feet. He tumbles to the carpeted hallway floor, groaning quietly. He had to get out, and fast, if he wanted to live. 

"Kenma!" Kuroo kneels beside him, trying to help him sit up. 

"No!" Kenma shouts. That was the loudest Kuroo had ever heard him speak before. "I have to go, I can't be here." 

"They're not gonna find you here, Kenma. You're safe with us." Kuroo explains softly, his eyes studying every one of Kenma's features. "I promise." 

Kenma thinks it over for a moment, huffing with panic still. "Where are we?" He asks after a moment.

"My estate--Nekoma." Kuroo helps him stand, wrapping Kenma's good arm around his shoulder. Unfortunately, their height difference makes it a little awkward, so Kuroo just scoops Kenma up instead. 

The boy releases a yelp of surprise. "You're making a mistake, I'm just gonna get you killed." He murmurs, eyes darting around the hallway as they walk back to the infirmary to a startled Suga. 

"I highly doubt that." Kuroo laughs, laying Kenma back down on the cot. "Plus, you're injured. It's not like you could defend yourself out there." 

Kenma crosses his arms, quickly uncrossing them when a spike of pain shoots up his shoulder, "I can handle myself fine." 

"Just like you've been doing for the past two years?" 

Kenma goes quiet at this. "You have no right asking _me_ about the past two years." 

"Where have you been?" Kuroo asks, his curiosity overcoming him, "Hiding? There's no way you were actually dead. Did someone take you?" 

"Shut up!" Kenma shouts, hands raised in the air, "I took care of myself and that's all that matters." 

Kuroo's heart breaks at his words. Not because of their sharp, aggressive nature, but more because of the meaning behind them. 

Kenma had had to take care of himself for so long. He was most likely alone for the past two years, knowing that any attachment would surely lead to either his death or theirs. Kenma would've been only sixteen when he "died", which makes him eighteen now. Kuroo is only nineteen, and he couldn't imagine what it must've been like being alone for the majority of his late teenage years. 

Being the prince of the Japanese mafia, that would've meant he'd had to hide from virtually every part of Japan. 

Kuroo was sure the past two years of Kenma's life had to have been nothing but hell. 

"Well, you don't have to anymore. I'm granting you a place in my syndicate." Kuroo offers with a smile. 

Kenma laughs, but it's not a real one--not the beautiful one Kuroo got to experience earlier. "We both know I can't involve myself with the mafia again. It's best if I just disappear." 

"Kenma, now everyone knows you're not actually dead. They'll be looking for you." The Nekoma leader explains, worry etched into his brow. 

"Why are you even trying to help me? What's the point?" Kenma fires back, his tone hot on his tongue. Normally, one would become aggravated with Kenma's prickly attitude, but Kuroo knew this was a psychological tactic to get him to ditch Kenma. Kuroo wasn't about to fall for his game. 

"Because you're obviously not like your father, Kenma. I can protect you." The mafia boss's words are soothing, comforting to Kenma's raging emotions. Frankly, Kenma was exhausted and needed a good, long shower--not someone telling him they can protect him when Kenma could very well protect himself, for that matter. 

"Kuroo, if I get caught-" 

" _You won't._ " Kuroo says sternly, with a finish. He stares into Kenma's eyes for a moment longer than what would be considered solely platonic. 

However, before Kenma's able to argue yet again, "Either way," Suga interrupts, pulling off his latex gloves and tossing them into a nearby trash bin. "Kenma's injured, and needs somewhere to rest for at least the next day or so." Kenma goes to protest, but Suga doesn't give him the chance, "Nuh-Uh." The 'doctor' waves a finger in his face. "No arguing."

Kenma's eyebrows slump down, a pout sitting on his lips. Kuroo smiles softly, admiring how cute the tableau is. "Well, you heard him, Kenma." Kuroo chuckles, scooping Kenma up into his arms again. "Time for a good nap." 

Okay, Kenma had to admit, a nap sounded pretty quality at the moment. But not before a shower. 

The Nekoma leader starts carrying the boy down the hall. A few Nekomatas nod their head to Kuroo, greeting him formally. Kenma shies away at any glance cast at him. 

"Here, you can take this room." Kuroo leans down to open the door with his right hand (which was still wrapped under Kenma's legs), then turns around and nudges it open with his butt. Kenma gives a small giggle before quickly shutting up. "Was that _joy_ I heard?" Kuroo asks sarcastically. 

"No." Kenma replies shortly once Kuroo lays him down on the large bed at the opposite end of the room. There's a rather large light illuminating the area from the ceiling, casting shadows upon the room. A couch and loveseat sit in the corner of the room, beside two different doors. 

"Are you hungry? I can grab us some food?" Kuroo offers, snapping then pointing a finger at Kenma. Kenma found Kuroo rather charismatic, he might even say charming. He would definitely be a good businessman, Kenma was sure of that. 

Kenma shakes his head. "Ah, come on," Kuroo coaxes as he backs up towards the open door. "You know I'm grabbing you something whether you say you want it or not, _soooo..._ " He quickly taps three times on the doorframe with his index fingers before disappearing into the hallway. With this, Kenma's left to his thoughts.

He sighs. So his old man knew he was alive now. Great. 

How was he supposed to survive on his own now? He was sure there was already a bounty placed on his head, which meant that there was virtually no safe part of Tokyo. Or Japan in general, for that matter. 

What was he to do? Staying with the Nekoma syndicate could potentially mean his death, or theirs. Both was the highest probability. All in all, it just wasn't a good idea. 

But Kuroo Tetsurou didn't seem like someone who was about to give up on him. Not that Kenma was placing his trust in these strangers. Oh, no, that would be a dreadful mistake on his part. Dreadful. 

Nevertheless, the cat-like boy was unable to suppress the small, amused smile that pulled at the corners of his mouth when Kuroo walked back in with two trays of food. "I didn't know what you wanted," He starts, "But you look like a twig so I got us burgers and fries." 

"How the hell did you get it that fast?" Kenma's eyes widen at the plates of giant burgers, a large stack of fries sat next to them. 

Kuroo shrugs, biting a fry, "I have my ways." Kenma almost laughs. 

Kuroo lays one tray in front of Kenma, then sits opposite him on the bed, legs crossed. He picks the burger up in his hands, giving his lip a small lick before biting into it. "You gonna eat?" Kuroo asks after a moment of chewing. 

Kenma looks around for a second, incredulous, before shaking his head slowly, as if it were the most obvious answer in the world. I mean, to Kenma, it _was_ \--he'd just told Kuroo he didn't want food. So why would he ask if he'd eat it? Sounded downright stupid to him. 

"Why not? I know you gotta be hungry." Kuroo asks with bunched eyebrows, nomming on a fry. "Couldn't have been much food wherever you managed to live the past two years." 

Kenma shrugs. "Come on, you need to eat." Kuroo says with finality.

Now here is where Kenma found himself confused. 

Kuroo seemed to be...caring for Kenma. Worrying over him, even. And that wasn't something Kenma understood very well. 

For the entirety of his life, he knew nothing but cold, hard rules. Growing up, his father ruled him with an iron fist. He'd never felt fussed over before, as if his own personal wellbeing was of any importance. Especially after his "death" did this become further instilled in Kenma's mentality. 

So to hear Kuroo Tetsurou, a rather powerful--which typically meant _dangerous_ \--mafia boss concerning himself with the likes of Kenma didn't really add up in the outcasted prince's book. 

While Kenma was, in fact, confused by this, he was also aware of how undeniably hungry he actually was. Picking up a fry, he inspects it for a moment. 

"Go on." Kuroo insists, "I'm not leaving till you eat something anyways." 

Kenma would be annoyed if he wasn't so perturbed by Kuroo's currently oddly caring nature. He bites the fry, smiling softly at the deliciously greasy flavor that spreads through his mouth. The silence following is daunting, so Kenma decided to find a way to get Kuroo to talk, since Kenma surely wasn't one for conversation. "So, tell me about, uh, everyone." He says quietly. 

Kuroo smiles again, "Well, there's Bokuto. He's my right-hand man, kind of like a bodyguard. He's usually in charge of our armory and stuff." He watches Kenma eat a few more fries. "Daichi's our driver, and Suga's kind of like our doctor." 

Kenma generally knew about that system; mafia syndicates typically had roles that would be filled as a sort of cabinet for the leader. However, Kenma noticed that they seemed to lack a hitman. "I know what you're thinking-" Kuroo interrupts his train of thought, "-and I thought maybe _you_ could be our hitman." 

Okay, now Kenma was really confused. "Sorry, uh, but didn't you just meet me, and isn't that kind of an...important role?" 

Yeah, Kuroo had to give that that was a pretty valid question. Kuroo doesn't trust many people, minus Daichi, Suga, and Boku. But ever since the two met, Kuroo couldn't deny that Kenma held this innocence about him. Yeah, the guy might've killed thousands of people for all Kuroo knew, but that didn't stop Kenma from emitting this pure aura about him. 

Kuroo Tetsurou trusted Kenma. He trusted him with something of an ethereal nature.

"Yeah, it is." Kuroo nods at Kenma, allowing his initial offer to remain hanging in the air. 

Kenma was at a loss for words. "But-" He starts, "You haven't even seen me kill anyone yet? I-"

"Oh, come on!" Kuroo laughs, swallowing another bite of his burger. "I've seen the way you move. You're agile, and quick. I don't need to see you kill anyone to know you're good at it, Kenma." 

The boy almost blushes, feeling flattered by Kuroo's words. He takes another fry, earning a rather proud smile from Kuroo. "I can try." Kenma replies. Kuroo had offered him a place to stay, given him food, even had one of the Nekomatas deal with his wounds. They had genuinely saved his life. The least Kenma could do in return was take a few heads. 

"That's all I can ask." Kuroo nods, taking the final bite of his burger. "You should get some rest, thanks for eating a bit." 

Confusion perks up inside Kenma. Was Kuroo really thanking Kenma for _eating_? 

"What?" Kuroo questions, seeing the look on Kenma's face. 

"Why are you thanking me for eating?" Kenma asks quietly, his brow bunching. 

Kuroo's features fall, replaced by something Kenma simply didn't understand. "Well, it couldn't have been easy eating something. I don't know where you've been the past two years, or why you even disappeared in the first place, but I can tell that whatever happened, you didn't have much food. Or much reason to eat, anyways." He gives Kenma a small, sad smile, "So thank you for trying." 

With that, Kuroo heads for the door. "By the way," He starts, his voice knocking Kenma out of his calculating daze, "There're clothes in the dresser if you need to take a shower. Night, Neko." 

The door closes lightly behind him. Kenma stares down at the full plate of food sitting before him, eyes roaming the tray as if the burger was going to give him answers to the enigma that was Kuroo Tetsurou. 

Unfortunately, the cheeseburger told him nothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comments are much appreciated! 
> 
> i'm still super excited for this book omg :3


	3. "no."

Kenma was tired. 

This is what he knew. 

Waking up seemed to prove a challenge, the combination of his sleep deprivation, unpleasant dreams, and pain concocting into a messy night of unrest. After a few minutes of tossing and turning, Kenma eventually gave up on catching any more shut-eye and started to pull himself out of the bed. 

Only seconds later, Kuroo knocks on the door. Kenma guessed it was Kuroo because, well---who else would come to see him? 

Kenma doesn't reply, feeling too out of it to deal with socialization. But to be fair, Kenma was never in the mood for socialization. 

"'Morning." Kuroo smiles as he cracks the door open, peeking his head inside. His smile falters at the image of Kenma curled up on himself sitting on the edge of the bed, "Everything okay?" 

Kenma only nods, rubbing at his eyes tiredly. Kuroo's eyebrows raise a bit when he notices the bloodshot veins coursing around the whites of Kenma's eyes. He looks downright exhausted. "Did you get any sleep last night?" Kuroo asks, concerned. 

The smaller boy only shrugs in response and pushes himself to his feet. He decided another cold shower should be enough to wake him up. "Where are you going?" Kuroo questions as he helps the other stand. Kenma nods his head at the bathroom. "Oh, gotcha." The Nekoma leader chuckles. He walks Kenma over to the restroom, "I'll grab some food." 

All Kuroo earns in response is a light sigh. Kuroo wonders just how badly Kenma's hurting at the moment; maybe Kuroo could get him some painkillers from Suga? 

With that thought in mind, Kuroo sets off to grab some breakfast and some meds for Kenma. He returns fifteen minutes later with a tray of eggs and bacon, along with some new bandages and a bottle of Ibuprofen. 

Okay, Kuroo had to admit---coming back to the room to find Kenma asleep on the bed again brought a smile to the mafia boss's face. The boy looked so peaceful, contrary to his typically tense resting face while awake. However, Kuroo also knew that leaving his hair wet like that must be uncomfortable and cold. "Hey, Neko?" He felt bad waking Kenma, but he also knew Kenma needed food in him and Kuroo had to rebandage his wound. 

Kenma grumbles in response, moving to roll over. His eyes shoot open as pain spikes up his shoulder from the movement. "Kuroo?" He questions, rubbing his eyes as he sits up. 

"Sorry for waking you, but I figured you needed these more." Kuroo gestures to the accumulation of goods he'd laid across Kenma's bedspread. "Why don't you go ahead and eat while I clean your wounds?" 

Kenma gives Kuroo a small "hm" in return and moves to show Kuroo his back. Kenma had replaced his previous suit with a pair of grey sweatpants and a white t-shirt he'd found in the dresser. Kuroo's eyes widen a bit at the blotchy blood stain running down the back of Kenma's t-shirt. "Oh-" He murmurs, then asks Kenma to pull his shirt off. 

Kenma only sits there quietly, head down. "What is it?" Kuroo asks softly, worry adamantly deep in his tone. 

The boy sighs, "It hurts to lift my arms up." Realization dawns on Kuroo's face---he can't pull the shirt off himself. 

So, Kuroo just grabs a pair of scissors from the first aid kit and cuts the shirt off him from behind. "Kuroo!" Kenma shrieks, eyes wide in surprise. 

"What?" Kuroo asks incredulously, holding the scissors up, "I got it off! We have plenty more." 

Then his eyes land on Kenma's small frame. He was very much underweight, that part was obvious (you could even tell this with his shirt _on_ ). However, the numerous bruises covering Kenma's shoulders and dotting his spine brought even more concern to the Nekoma boss's thoughts. Who had hurt him this badly? 

Kuroo continues on with cleaning and bandaging Kenma's wounds, knowing not to dwell on the other injuries so as to not make Kenma even more uncomfortable. He keeps a close eye on Kenma's plate while he works, checking to see if he'd eaten any. Much to Kuroo's disappointment, Kenma had only eaten a few bites of bacon. 

However, Kuroo hadn't needed to pressure Kenma as much to eat this time, which was a win in Kuroo's book. 

"Here," Kuroo grabs a new shirt from the dresser, a white one to be able to tell if Kenma's wounds bled through again. He loops it over Kenma's head, helping the eighteen-year-old pull his arms through. "Did you wanna try to sleep again?"

"No." Kenma replies quietly, lightly shivering. Was he cold? 

"Why didn't you dry your hair?" Kuroo asks with a light chuckle, moving to retrieve a clean, fluffy towel from the bathroom. 

Kenma sighs yet again, "Hurts to lift my arm." 

With this, Kuroo proceeds to take the towel and use it to gently massage Kenma's wet scalp. The boy instinctively yelps in surprise, but then seems to melt into the sensation. 

This moment they share feels oddly fragile between the two. It's a confusing dynamic---Japanese mafia boss suddenly caring for outcasted, presumably "dead" Japanese mafia prince. But in this moment, labels seem to melt away. 

In this moment, who cares why Kenma was "killed" two years ago? Who cares why he was on the run? Who cares why Kuroo felt this unrequitable urge to protect the cat-like boy? 

Who cares about the spark of intrigue that dances between the two boys, in constant, twiddling motion? 

Nothing needed to be asked. Nothing needed to be answered. 

They simply existed. 

And that was enough. 

They spent the rest of the day together, Kuroo showing Kenma around the estate and introducing him to various other Nekomatas. Kenma gave very little to no reply most of the time, so Kuroo hadn't been able to learn anything more of the outcasted prince. Kuroo wasn't too worried about that though, he knew how exhausted Kenma must be. He can get more answers tomorrow. 

___

It was the next day, and Kenma could admit that he felt a bit better. Sure, his movements still felt sluggish and his shoulder still hurt, but overall, he was more okay than he'd been in quite a while. Kuroo rarely gave him a second alone, which Kenma preferred after being by himself for around two entire years. 

Yeah, Kenma generally hated people. Even before "dying", he hated people. But Kuroo was a very wide exception. Kenma wasn't sure why, but he really enjoyed the enthusiastic atmosphere of the mafia boss. He was sure Kuroo wasn't like this with most others; if he was, then how would he have survived this far as a syndicate leader? 

Kenma knew he got to see a side of Kuroo that was rarely shown, and that fact made Kenma feel...special. A good kind of special, for once. 

"Can I ask you something?" Kuroo asks from his place beneath the large oak tree. They'd been hanging out outside, "getting some sunshine", as Kuroo put it. Kenma felt it was rather stupid--why be _outside_ doing nothing, when you could be _inside_ doing nothing? Kuroo had insisted it was important to get fresh air, especially for Kenma. 

"Uh, sure." Kenma shrugs, picking some grass up as he leans back against a tree opposite Kuroo's. A rather large, vine-veiled brick wall provided coverage from the outside world. They were at the back of the estate, just to be sure no one was able to catch eye of Kenma. 

"Where have you been the past two years?" Kuroo's question confused Kenma. Why did he care? Kenma was sure Kuroo had more important mafia-boss-work to take care of instead of sitting here with a "dead" person, who wasn't even supposed to exist. 

Despite these thoughts, Kenma rationalizes that Kuroo, at the very least, deserved an answer to his question. After all he's done for him, Kuroo reserved the right to know. "Um, there's really no way to answer that." He replies quietly, "I never stayed in the same place twice. I mainly stayed on rooftops, no foot-traffic there." 

Kuroo watches him, waiting for him to continue. "Sometimes I came across some extra cash and I could afford food." Kenma looks down as he talks. 

"But what about the suit you wore the night of the banquet?" Kuroo questions, tilting his head a bit. 

"Oh," Kenma hums, "I stole it." 

Kuroo laughs, "From who?!" 

Kenma shrugs again, "A store." 

"I-" Kuroo stutters over his words, "And you weren't caught?" 

"No." Kenma looks around, as if the answer were obvious. To Kenma, it was---if he'd been caught, he wouldn't be here right now. So why would Kuroo even ask? "I got past the security system, took a suit, and left. Simple." 

"Why didn't you take anything else?" Kuroo asks with an incredulous smile. 

"Wasn't mine to take. I took what I needed." Kenma's answer seems to sober Kuroo's previously buoyant mood. Not in a somber way, but a way that showed Kuroo that Kenma was, in fact, a good person. 

Yeah, he stole to survive. And that was it. 

Yeah, Kenma wronged those who had wronged others. And that was it. 

Kenma had a very specific rule of law for his own sense of justice. 

"How'd you even know there was a banquet happening?" 

"Eh, it was obvious. I'd seen mafia members going in and out the backdoor for a few weeks beforehand, and I could hear bits and pieces of their conversations." This truly amazed Kuroo. Kenma was somehow stealthy enough to hide beneath the noses of the entire Japanese mafia for two years without even an inkling of getting caught. He'd listened in to their conversations, spied on syndicate officers, and probably worse. Kenma truly was a spy, and a frighteningly good one at that. 

It was official---Kuroo _needed_ to see Kenma in action. 

___

It was that same night, and Kuroo had just asked Kenma if he could see how he works. 

Kenma hesitates, knowing he shouldn't be going out with the entire Japanese mafia (minus the Nekoma syndicate) looking for him. But Kenma knew, if he had to, he could easily get out of there if the mission was compromised. _Easily._

The only reason he was exposed at the banquet was, quite honestly, because he got way too involved with Kuroo and his group. While he'd never let his guard down, he was still distracted. He would've gotten away entirely if Daichi, Bokuto, and Kuroo hadn't driven right in front of him to help. Naturally, Kenma had stopped and thus, was shot. 

Not that Kenma blamed Nekoma for it, he was glad to receive the help. He was still wary that Nekoma would turn him over for some sort of reward, but again, Kenma could easily slip out a window of the estate if it ever came to that. 

"Who are we after?" Kenma asks as he starts to tilt his head from side to side, stretching. 

"Woah-" Kuroo's palms raise, "I didn't mean right now-" 

"You wanted to see, didn't you?" Kenma questions, eyebrows slightly raised. He was never a very expressive boy. 

"But your wounds-" Kuroo stumbles over his words, his brain flooding with reasons as to why this is an oh, _so_ terrible idea. "And you should be hiding!" 

Kenma shakes his head, "Not an issue." He doesn't bother explaining more. 

Kuroo watches Kenma for a moment, eyes uneasy. "You're hurt." 

"I've healed a bit, a little movement isn't gonna kill me." To be honest, Kenma had been craving some action the past two days of staying at the Nekoma estate. Yeah, Kenma hated that the past two years of his life, he'd been surviving barely by the skin of his teeth. But he had to admit, the rush of adrenaline he got from sneaking around was just too entertaining not to pursue. 

"Another bullet will." Kuroo's voice was cold, colder than Kenma had ever heard it be. It sends just a few chills down Kenma's back, reminding the boy of his father. A few memories come flooding back to Kenma, of missions he'd had to run for the Japanese mafia king. It wasn't the killing that bothered Kenma, no, not in the slightest. What always hit Kenma hard were the reasons behind the murders. 

"What's your point? If I died, the world would be exactly how it's supposed to be." To Kenma, the statement made total sense. It was entirely true---Kenma was meant to be dead. What's the difference if he _actually_ was? 

Kuroo seemed to be at a loss for words. Did Kenma really think that little of his own self-worth? Did he really hold his own life at such a low value that it didn't even matter compared to a single mission? 

Kuroo knew most syndicate leaders disciplined their members like this. They'd been molded to die for the cause, regardless of what the "cause" may be. 

Kuroo Tetsurou had never trained his Nekomatas like this, neither had his father. Instead, they had instilled within their members to always get out of the situation if they ever found their own lives in danger. They weren't cowards, not in the slightest. They were just smart. They were tactical. They knew where their values lay. 

Thus, Kuroo was determined to rewire Neko; teach him how to value himself. It simply broke Kuroo's heart to see Kenma so eager to lay down his only life for murder. 

"Well, who are we after?" Kenma questions, startling Kuroo out of his thoughts. It was obvious that Kenma wasn't going to let this go, so the least Kuroo could do was get the rest of his team so they could keep him safe if things went wrong. 

"Well..." Kuroo trails off, sighing. "There is one I have in mind..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> probably gonna update again tonight, super excited for the next chapter! so much action! finally gonna get some badass hitman kenma!! >:)
> 
> comments are much appreciated!

**Author's Note:**

> ok but i'm actually really excited for this book (:


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